Category Archives: Society & Culture

The thing that annoyed me most about the movie Secretariat was that the horses playing him were not in the credits. In particular, the one who played him in close-ups was superb – playing to the camera, acting the ham. Just like the real Big Red, so those who knew him say. I hope I will learn his and the others’ names and more about them on the dvd.

Ok, that’s my criticism. Other than that, I loved the movie. It’s the story of Secretariat’s fabulous 1973 Triple Crown win, and the story of his owner Penny Chenery Tweedy. Now, I’m a Man o’ War girl when it comes to that important question – who was the greatest racehorse of the 20th century? It’s not a decision based on any real knowledge of thoroughbred racing, just that he was the first racehorse I knew anything about. I had a put-together model kit of him when I was a kid, and it caused me to find a book about him in the library. And, even if you’re in the Secretariat “greatest horse” camp, you can’t deny the magnificence of Man o’ War, the original “Big Red”. His stride, as marked out at the Kentucky Horse Park, is still the longest of any known horse, including Secretariat.

The 1973 Belmont

But that win by 31 lengths! Nothing has ever been seen like that. I didn’t see the actual race. I was living outside North America and didn’t have a tv set. I’ve watched replays since but, thrilling as even that is, I cannot imagine what it felt like to actually see the race not knowing what the outcome would be. By 1978, after Seattle Slew and Affirmed won back-to-back Triple Crowns, I felt that having a Triple Crown was pretty exciting but not particularly unusual. I never imagined that it would not be done again for so many years. No horse, before or since, has won even one of the individual races that make up the Triple Crown in such a spectacular fashion. Especially the Belmont, the longest and most grueling of the three. Watching him is like watching a horse fly. It’s magic and majesty and pure joy.

The sheer magnificence of Secretariat is why I didn’t find jarring the overvoice of a passage from the Book of Job at the movie’s beginning and end. Such beauty and strength as a horse possesses calls up reverential words and imagery. The solemnity and beauty of the words fit the magnificence of the animal, one of the most beautiful in creation.

After seeing the movie, I checked online reviews. My interpretation of the use of the Book of Job is at variance with most of those I read. Quite a big deal was made of the fact that director Randall Wallace is an outspoken Christian. I did not know that going in so it didn’t influence my viewing of the movie.

Oh Happy Day

Two other scenes of the movie are focused upon as evidence of the Christian message of the director and/or Disney Studio. The choice of Oh Happy Day, as music coming from the stable radio, and as the horses are coming down the final stretch in the Belmont. The first time, when it’s coming from the stable radio, I just heard it as a popular song by the Edwin Hawkins Singers, and fitting when everybody in the scene was happy and feeling good about Secretariat and his prospects. The second use of it, in the ultimate race, I found distracting just because it was loud and I’d have rather just heard the hooves pounding on the track. Music accompanying that beautiful sound is gilding the lily. Not necessary, not an improvement.

Two reviews stood out for me. One is by Steve Haskin in Bloodhorse Magazine. This is a fair and insightful review both about the movie and the story of Secretariat and his connections. He points out a number of inaccuracies and glossovers of actual fact. One he doesn’t mention is that the coin toss which decided Secretariat’s ownership was actually more complicated and dramatic. To save movie time, I suppose, it was abbreviated. Still tense with drama, but if you want to read the real story, look for The Secretariat Factor by Tom Kiernan (Doubleday 1979). That’s where I read it, but I’m sure it’s also told in other books.

“Tea Party-flavored”

The second review is by Andrew O’Hehir in Salon. He says that he wanted his review to be provocative and well, yes, it is. His reading of Secretariat is as “Tea Party-flavored” propaganda for a mythical American past when all was well. For this, he holds the director and Disney responsible for perpetuating the myths of nostalgia and inaccurate simplification. That, I believe, is hardly news. O’Hehir for sure has read Critical Theory and wanted to be sure that we all knew he had. The argument is along the lines that popular culture is a particularly effective way to create political or ideological propaganda because the consumers are entertained primarily and therefore unaware that they are being fed propaganda. Ok.

Can you, as does O’Hehir, read Secretariat as Christian right wing propaganda? Of course. Just as you can read iconoclast comic Dennis Leary’s tv drama Rescue Me as anti-Muslim propaganda. Everyone in North America developed a heightened pride in and respect for police officers and firefighters after 9/11. Leary became a well-known advocate for firefighters in thanks to them for their efforts after that tragedy. The tragedy was caused by anti-American extremists – Muslim extremists. So do the math the same way, and you can consider Rescue Me propaganda just as easily as you can consider Secretariat right-wing Christian propaganda.

The movie Secretariat and real-life

O’Hehir argues that the movie’s negligible mention of the social and political upheaval in early 70s America is evidence of its propaganda/mythologizing of the past. Maybe it is. Maybe, too, those events didn’t directly affect the lives of the people whose story this is except through the schoolgirl political activism that is shown. Like O’Hehir, I lived through that time period, but my conclusions on the inclusion of sociopolitical context differ from his. I don’t think you need to cram in historical context just because it exists. Not if it doesn’t fit with your characters’ story.

As a teenager at that time, I was aware of what was happening in the US. I was active about it at about the same level of political acuity as Mrs. Tweedy’s daughter. My social concern got about the same kind of attention from my parents as did hers. It wasn’t that my family was living in a rarefied zone of privilege and wealth.Nor were they unaware of political and social events. It was that they had their hands full just getting on with their own lives without worrying about other people and cerebral political notions.

I think perhaps the same thing would have been true for the Tweedy-Chenery family. It may not be any more complicated than that. Mrs. Tweedy was a housewife with four kids and ailing parents. She had enough on her plate. If I asked my mother, I think I’d get the same answer.

A story of horses

Anyway, I loved the movie Secretariat. Steve Haskin said that the actor horses didn’t “capture the majesty and physical presence” of Secretariat but that there “isn’t a horse alive who could’ve done justice to him”. Secretariat is a feel-good story with a happy ending (except, of course, for Secretariat’s main competitor, the magnificent Sham, who made him run the race he did). And Secretariat’s story is not told in its totality in the movie. How could it be? What is told, however, is worth watching – and cheering and crying.

This summer, I was driving and listening to, I think, Tapestry on CBC Radio. A man affiliated with a Cathedral somewhere was talking about panhandlers who sat near the church. His thesis was that they wanted your recognition as people, as members of our community more than they wanted your spare change. They want eye contact and a ‘good morning, how are you’, he said.

Filling in for panhandler

He’d filled in for one of the panhandlers one day while the guy had to run an errand. He said the worst thing he felt was the invisibility – that no one saw him while he was sitting on the church steps. By being in the context of ‘panhandler’, he was not worth noticing. In his usual context of Church official, he would have been acknowledged, even respected. He hadn’t changed his clothes or behaviour, simply put himself in a place where Church officials do not sit, held the equipment of the panhandler and therefore became him. What he especially noticed was the averting of eyes from him.

I was listening and thinking about my response to panhandlers. A couple blocks further on, I got a chance to test myself. A young man was standing on the traffic island by the stoplights. He held a cardboard sign and had a plastic container at his feet. As I got closer in the line of traffic, I saw it read “out of work, need spare change”. What am I going to do? I was just hoping the light wouldn’t change so I’d have to stop beside him. My luck held and I caught the tail end of the advance turn signal. “Sorry buddy I gotta turn now!” I only said that in my head. Like all the other drivers I could see, I drove right past without making eye contact with him.

Eye-Averter

I am usually an eye-averter. But, I realized, I’m also an eye-averter at craft shows, trade shows and any store that actually still has shop assistants who themselves aren’t eye-averting with customers. I don’t want to enter into any conversation which has a transaction as its principal motive.

If I’m at a craft sale and want to look at hand-crocheted items, it doesn’t mean I want to buy any and I don’t want to feel guilted into buying a doily because the nice lady that made it is telling me all about it. So I slink along, keeping to the middle of the aisle so I’m not easily ‘eye-caught’ by the genial grandmother or the slick-suited window salesman. If they catch your eye, you become obligated to talk to them. And, oh yes, they’ll talk to you at length about anything. But ultimately they are hoping you will buy something.

I have way too much stuff in my house that I bought because I felt it was the decent thing to do. Trapped into communication and made part of a tiny exchange community leads to having all kinds of gizmos and handcrafty items that eventually make their way to the ‘community’ of the Goodwill Industries.

Community commerce

The social communication of a market situation is selling something to someone. And panhandling is a market situation. Someone is asking someone else to give them money. They’re selling you the act of making yourself feel good? They’re selling charity, pity, egalitarianism, ‘there but for the grace of God…’? I don’t know. But I decided that my eye-averting is not an act of denying community membership to someone, it’s just an act of not wanting to engage in commerce. When my eye is caught, by a good panhandler or a good salesperson, I usually end up buying, or giving. That’s why I try to keep myself disengaged; I don’t like the value of my humanity being assessed on the scales of trade.